


Skunk Hour

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Friendship, Gen Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2004-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-18 20:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus is kidnapped from King's Cross and there are few clues as to what's happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Skunk Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

`Good-bye, Sirius. Bye, James.' Remus offered both a quick embrace, and then Peter. `See you after summer.'

`Invitation stands,' Sirius replied, smiling. `Ring me when you want to come over.'

`Better you than me,' James teased. `See you all. Good-bye.'

Peter was the last to leave, with a quiet word and a flurry of mixed- up luggage. Mrs Pettigrew gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, which made him blush; she waved just before they disappeared through the wall, headed for the south-facing car park.

Lucius Malfoy passed him with Severus Snape, and the pair offered grudging smiles. Malfoy made sure to touch his Prefect badge, in case Remus had forgotten about it. It made him smile. He slowly stacked his trolley with his things, watching while they were greeted by an austere servant in a driver's uniform, who folded their robes neatly under his arm and drew them through the wall to the main platform of King's Cross. Off to Malfoy Manor, he thought, to get up to mischief together. The pair were almost as notorious as the Marauders.

He shed his own robe, knowing it would be too conspicuous in a Muggle station. He stuffed it inside his backpack, and pulled the pack onto his shoulders, tightening the straps. 9 3/4 platform was nearly empty. Pulling his trolley behind him, he entered the wall, and popped out unremarkably from the other side into the bustle of King's Cross mid-day.

He saw the man looking at him when he entered the loo. Suddenly uneasy, he dropped his eyes to his loafers, and took a stall instead of a urinal.

The man was still there when he was done. Not too tall, with a small beer belly half-hidden by a leather jacket, and a thin tan face. Remus quickly washed his hands, trying not to look at the man, but when he turned for the paper, found it held out to him. He stared, unsure what to do.

The man smiled, tapping the crest on his jacket. `You one of the Hogwarts' boys, then?'

Mutely, surprised, he nodded.

`I was too, once.'

Slowly he took the paper, and dried his hands. `What year, sir?' he replied quietly, mindful of his manners.

`Nineteen sixty-two, as was. Still old Dippet?'

`No.' He edged past the man, and dropped the paper into the waste bin. `Albus Dumbledore.'

`Ah. Remember him. Good for a trick, that man.'

`Yes, sir.' He gripped the shoulder straps of his bag tightly. `Excuse me.'

`Let me guess what House you're in. Quiet as a mouse, you are- Hufflepuff?'

That wrung a smile from him, at last. `No, sir. Though everyone says I ought to have been.'

The man grinned at him, and leaned back, relaxed, against the sink. `I should have known. Gryffindor.' He laughed. `They say it's the best House.'

He found himself grinning back. `I know.' He glanced to the door, then back at the man. Politely he asked, `Were you a Gryffindor, sir?'

He ran a hand through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. `Not me, lad. Not me.' He thrust out his hand, the palm open and square, the fingernails dirty. `Randy.'

The hand made him reluctant. But he took it in his own. `Hello, sir. Randy.'

`Come, now. I shared my name. We can't be friends till you've told me yours.'

Another man came into the bathroom, carrying a young child. They were spared only a glance before he disappeared into one of the stalls with the infant.

`Remus,' Remus said. `Remus Lupin.'

`Remus?' Randy gave his hand a strong squeeze. `You must be wizarding, with a name like that. I suppose you've no Muggle kin, like some of us.'

`No,' he said. `I mean, on my father's side. He married in. He's Irish.'

`Ah.' Randy seemed satisfied, dropped his hand. `I thought so, with colouring like yours. Black Celt, you look.'

The toilet flushed noisily, and Remus glanced uncomfortably at the shuffling feet visible beneath the stall door. `It was nice to meet you,' he murmured. `I ought to be going.'

`Mum waiting for you?'

`No.' He shook his head. `I take a cab home.'

Randy raised an eyebrow. `Away at boarding all year long, and she don't come for you?'

`It's not that she doesn't want to,' he quickly defended her. `Dad works, and I've got a younger brother. She takes care of him.'

`And a big lad like yourself, it's no trouble finding a taxi.' The man nodded his approval. `Where's home?'

`Camden.'

`That's not so far, is it?' Randy straightened from his slouch, and gestured to the door. `Tell you what. How about I drive you?'

Unease stirred in the pit of his stomach again. `I shouldn't,' he said.

`Tsk. What's a favour between friends?' Randy grinned, and Remus saw that one of his front teeth was crooked. It was an engaging smile. Threatless. And he wasn't sure if he was allowed to say no.

Randy took his silence for permission, and slung an arm over his shoulder. `That all your luggage, then? I'm just outside in the car park.'

`Trunk, outside.' The left the loo, and Randy took the trunk for him, leaving the trolley behind and slinging it easily over his shoulder, as if it weighed nothing. Remus envied him the strength, and followed at his side. They passed unnoticed through the crowded train station; Remus looked about, but saw no other Hogwarts students. And then they were out in the bright sunlight of the fresh air, and Remus shrugged off his backpack so he could slip out of his coat. Randy held it for him while he rolled up his crisp shirt sleeves. `Remember that uni,' the tall man laughed.

`Do you have a wand?' Remus asked curiously, as they waited at the crosswalk. The light changed to red, and they headed across the street with a small crowd of women.

Randy didn't look at him. `Don't find much use for it.'

`You have a car? A Muggle car?'

`Indeed I do. Row seven. Count for me?'

He obeyed, but discomfort was setting in. His mother wouldn't be pleased he'd gone home with a stranger, even a Hogwarts stranger. But what harm could another wizard do to him? And Randy didn't look like a pervert or a kidnapper. He looked normal. He wore blue jeans.

`Row seven,' he announced quietly.

`This one here.' Randy set the trunk down, and opened the hatch of a small brown auto. He held out the keys, and Remus took them. `Go get it started up. I'll load this in and be right up.'

Remus looked down at the keys in his palm. `Maybe I should call my mother,' he said.

Randy glanced up. `Do you always need her permission for everything?'

He closed his hand into a fist around the keys, pride stung. `No.' He licked his lips, tried to find a way to add something more, something grown-up. Manly. Nothing came. Pink and hot with embarrassment, he turned and opened the passenger door, and slid onto the seat with his backpack on his lap. He put the key in the ignition, and buckled the safety belt.

The driver side door opened with a loud snick, and Randy eased down behind the wheel, stretching long legs out in front of him. He grinned at Remus, and turned on the engine. `Camden it is, son.' He reached for the radio dial, and set it to low volume, a Muggle news channel. The soft murmuring set Remus on edge, and a sidelong scan of Randy's face offered no help. He fiddled with the straps of his pack, and stared silently out his window.

They turned at the wrong junction. `What are you doing?' he asked, twisting to look at the man.

Randy barely glanced at him. `Shortcut.'

He wished he hadn't eaten Sirius's candybar on the train. His stomach hurt. `Can you please turn on the AC?'

`It's there. Do it yourself.'

He turned it on, and directed the blast toward his face. It didn't help. `What's the shortcut?'

`How old are you?'

Randy's face was closed-off. He didn't look so kind, now. Remus stared at him.

`I asked you a question, lad.'

He had to swallow to loosen his tongue. `I'd like to get out, please.'

Randy finally looked at him. `Don't be stupid, Remus Lupin. You sit tight.'

He gripped his backpack so hard his knuckles ached. `Stop the car.' When Randy didn't respond, he clawed open the buckle and pulled up the lock. Randy grabbed his hand when he reached for the handle, and the car swerved when he shoved back. Randy swore, and cuffed him sharply along the cheek. Dizzy, he slumped, the side of his face on fire.

`You do as I tell you,' Randy said, and his voice sounded far away. Randy locked the door again, and buckled back the belt, and then the car was moving again, turning up a road he didn't recognise. `Do what I say and I won't hit you again. All right?' He snorted, and reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He rested one against his lips, and took a lighter from the glove compartment. `Your mum should have warned you about strangers,' he muttered, and laughed at his own joke.

Remus held his cheek, and huddled in on himself fighting panic.

+++

`Sirius!'

He stood from emptying his trunk and went to his door. `What, Mum?'

`It's Mrs Lupin. Come to the phone.'

He left his room, curiosity flaring. `Mrs Lupin?' He clattered quickly down the stairs, and hopped the last three steps, barreling into the kitchen. His mother held out the receiver with a shrug. He leant against the wall and held the receiver to his ear. `Hello?'

`Sirius? Sirius, this is Mrs Lupin.'

`Hello, ma'am,' he replied, under his mother's frowning gaze. She smiled, and left the kitchen. Sirius slid into a crouch, tugging the cord with him. He'd never actually met Mrs Lupin, or Mr Lupin for that matter. `Is there something I can do for you?'

`I hope so.' She sounded very English. `Sirius, did Remus go home with you?'

He blinked, tapping the wallpaper with a bare toe. `No, miss. We separated at King's Cross.'

There was a long silence. Suddenly, in a tight voice, she demanded, `Are you sure?'

`Yes.' He chewed his lower lip. `Didn't he get home all right?'

`No.' Another silence, while he stiffened. `No. He didn't. Maybe he went with James Potter?'

`No, Mrs Lupin. I saw Jamie go off with his parents right away. And Peter with his.' Remus wasn't home. `I offered to wait with him. He said it was all right.'

`It probably is.' She drew a deep breath. `I'll call the others, just to be sure. Perhaps he's only late.'

Sirius glanced at the clock. He'd been home for four hours, and they lived outside London. Remus should have been home long before him.

`Thank you. Good-bye.'

`Mrs Lupin? Could you call me when he gets in?'

`Of course. Thank you.' She hung up quickly, but he did not. He was still holding the receiver when his mother came back into the kitchen.

`What is it?' she asked, surprised. She wiped her hands on her apron, and offered him a hand to his feet.

He looked up at her, and realised how glad he was to be safely at home. `Remus isn't come home yet,' he told her.

She frowned. She looked at the clock, just as he had. Sirius bit a fingernail, and added, `I offered to wait with him.'

`It's not your fault, sweet.' She drew him to his feet. `Did you see him leave the station?'

`No. He said he had to use the loo.'

`Maybe he's just having a lark.'

`Not Remus.' He hung up the phone. `D'you think he's all right?'

`I'm sure he is. After the countless times you boys have done awful things and come out unscathed, I shouldn't be surprised if he only had trouble finding a cabbie. You know how crazy it gets at King's Cross.'

He didn't feel reassured. `Can I call Jamie?'

She smiled for him, but there were frown lines around her eyes. `Go ahead.'

+++

He sat tensely at the table while Randy laid out plastic utensils- full set for himself, but only a spoon for Remus. A napkin, and a glass that was filled with milk. The oven ding made him flinch. Randy leant over his shoulder to set a TV dinner on his matt.

`Eat up,' the man advised cheerily.

He picked up the spoon, but the smell of the food made him nauseated. He pushed a glob of half-thawed mash into the greasy bangers, and closed his eyes.

When he looked up, Randy had sat across from him and was making short work of a pork cutlet. The man glanced up at him, and said, `Eat it. If you don't behave, you won't get another.'

He set down the spoon, and drank half the milk. It churned restively in his empty bladder. He managed the mash, and found he couldn't rid the taste from his mouth.

At last, Randy sprawled back in his chair, gazing at Remus while he linked his fingers together over his stomach. The kitchen was small, smelling of oil and burn. It was too dim to really see, and every movement startled him.

`Stop cringing,' the man said suddenly.

Remus dropped his eyes to his lap.

Randy's chair scraped the linoleum as he shoved it back and stood. `Go wash up. It's that door there. Then come back here.'

He did as he was told. The bathroom was foul; the sink was rusted and limed, and the mirror was caked with dust and dirt. Even in the dim light of the flickering bulb, he could see the swelling around his eye. He ran cool water over his fingers, and touched it. It stung.

The roiling in his stomach rose unbearably. He fell to his knees beside the toilet, and retched. He rubbed his eyes fiercely against the tears, and flushed away the evidence of his cowardice.

I've faced worse, he told himself. What does Sirius always say? I've faced worse. I just can't remember what, right now.

He rinsed his mouth and washed his hands, and clenched them until their trembling stopped. He turned off the light, and returned to the kitchen.

Randy was dropping the dinner trays into the garbage bin. He turned, and nodded when he saw Remus. He crossed his arms, and said, `You stay free until you misbehave. I don't have any problems trussing you up like a dog.'

He raised his chin. He nodded once.

`I found your wand. I'll be keeping it close. You understand me? None of your wizard tricks.' Randy sighed, and gestured for him to follow. He did, staying steps behind, until Randy reached back and pulled him by the shoulder. `Den,' the man told him shortly, indicating a messy room strewn with books and old meal trays. He pointed to another door. `My bedroom. And that's the closet. You don't go into either unless I tell you to. Now go sit on that couch. Don't move.' He pushed, between his shoulder blades, and Remus went. He sat carefully, and the couch emitted a small cloud of dust. He sat tensely under Randy's gaze, and finally the man left. He listened warily, and at last was answered by the flush from the w.c..

Randy didn't return from the kitchen. Remus waited, anxiety and fear gnawing at him. At last, the man emerged, but it was only to disappear into the bedroom, and he did not come out again. He ground his fists into his thighs, rubbed at his collar where sweat was dripping down his back. The daylight slowly crept away, and the room began to dim, and then to darken. Tears threatened, but every time, he beat them back.

His watch read eleven o'clock the last time he looked at it. Hours of sitting still and wound up tight as a spring made him tired and weak. He let his head fall back against the musty-smelling cushion, and finally let his eyes drop closed.

He woke when Randy finally came out of the bedroom.

`Get up,' the man said, a quiet voice in the blackness.

+++

Sirius sat at the foot of the stairs, straining to hear his parent's murmured conversation. Peter, bags under his eyes, played listlessly with a loose button on his cuff. At last, Peter offered, `He'll be okay, Sirius.'

He said, `I should have waited with him.'

His father passed them from the sitting room, carrying the tea tray. `Boys,' he said wearily. `You should get some sleep. Sirius, can you make up the cot for Peter?'

`Is there any news?' Sirius demanded, though he knew there wasn't.

`Go to bed, son. We'll know better in the morning.' Mr Black hesitated, then sat beside them on the stairwell. `The police have rules about when you can report a person missing,' he explained softly. `When it's clear that he's not just gone late, they'll start searching for him. Mr Lupin is talking about running some posters up at King's Cross. It's a good idea. The station staff are already keeping an eye out for Remus, in case he goes back there.'

Mrs Pettigrew appeared at the door. `I need to get home,' she told Mr Black. `Peter, do you want to come with me?'

Peter glanced at Sirius, and shook his head. `Druther stay here, Mum.' He looked to Mr Black, uncertain. `If that's all right,' he added tentatively.

Mr Black smiled. `Of course.'

Mrs Pettigrew kissed her son, and took her coat down from the wall. Mr Black stood to show her out, and the boys were once again alone.

`You don't have to stay,' Sirius said. `If you want to go home.'

`I want to be here when they find Remus.' Peter sighed, and fell back against the wall. `Maybe James will come.'

`He will. Soon as his parents let him on the bus. The Marauders have to be together.' Sirius clamped his jaws tightly together. They were missing a member. `We'll wait for Reemy together.'

With Peter installed in the cot at the foot of Sirius's bed, with only the light from the window to illuminate the small room, Peter asked, `What do you reckon happened to him?'

`If I knew, I'd be out there getting him back.'

+++

Remus lay on the bed, trying not to smell the sheets, counting the cracks in the plaster moulding of the ceiling. Beside him, Randy grunted, and batted at the lamp with a clumsy hand before falling back to sleep.

He felt empty. He was cold, and his stomach hurt. He had no way of knowing when morning was.

They'll find me. They'll come, and this will all be just a nightmare. They're on their way right now. They're breaking down the door.

But they didn't. No-one came.

He told himself to move for minutes, maybe hours, before the strength finally came. He slid out of the bed so slowly he was barely sure he was moving. Randy never stirred. He had to creep across the room, afraid of tripping in the mess on the floor. At the door, his spine began to pringle, but he couldn't look back, didn't dare. He ran from the den to the kitchen, and twisted the doorhandle.

It was locked.

He tried the bathroom. There was a window. His heart was thumping so loud he was sure Randy would hear it. He stood on the toilet and picked at the rusted lock with his fingernails. Could he fit through? It was so small. He had to make it.

An arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him off the toilet. He gasped, and kicked and lashed out with his elbows, but Randy was far stronger. Randy carried him through the kitchen, and threw him to the floor of the den. The landing knocked the wind out of him, and he choked.

`Told you not to be stupid,' Randy hissed, and kicked him. It was a stabbing pain in his chest, and he gasped for air without finding any, curling around the hurt and taking the second kick in the upper arm. It fell numb and useless.

And that suddenly the attack was over. He struggled for breath, squeezing his eyes shut, tense and shaking, waiting for more. Then it was Randy grabbing him up by the shoulders and pushing him down on the couch. Cord around his ankles. His hands together. And the worst, a wad of tangy, sweat-tasting tee shirt in his mouth, gagging him. A cuff on the side of the head.

`You stay where I tell you to, son. You brought this on yourself.'

Dragging him across the floor, and a door opening, and it was the closet. It was dark inside and smelled of something dead. He heard it lock. He cried, then, at last.

+++

Every ring of the phone had him running downstairs, hope flaring wildly, only to be extinguished by the shake of his mother's head. He nearly twisted an ankle this time, landing so hard at the bottom that he staggered before catching himself against the rail. His father steadied him from the other side, and picked up the receiver from the wall. `Hello?'

He stared hard at his father's face, straining to hear what was said on the other end. All he could catch was a woman's voice.

And then his father said, `Thank you, Igerna,' and set the receiver back in the cradle. He gazed down at Sirius, and smiled. `Someone's come forward,' he reported. The smile faded, and Sirius shivered as a chill raced down his spine. `It's not very good,' Mr Black sighed. He rubbed a hand over his beard. `A man saw a boy matching Remus's description talking to a man in the King's Cross public loo. He said they left together. Apparently, he was given to understand that they didn't know each other. If it is Remus, he left King's Cross with a stranger.'

`It's been three days,' Sirius said. `When are they going to find him?'

`We have to give it time, Sirius. That television address was a good idea. It worked, didn't it? Now that they have some idea of what happened, the police can narrow the search.'

`What about magic?' he demanded. `Why aren't they using that?'

Mr Black's expression was grave. `There are laws,' he explained gently. `When Muggle and wizarding worlds mix like this, there's just- there are limits on what we're allowed to do, for fear of interfering in their lifestyle, or of revealing ours.'

`Remus lives right in the middle of London and there's no rules about that!'

`This is a little different, son. How could we explain to Muggle police if we found Remus by magic? There would be investigations. Suspicions. Muggles are very thorough.'

He glared at his father, and smashed a fist into his open palm. `Anything could have happened to him in three days. He could be- ` He'd meant to say it. But it stuck in his throat.

His father laid a hand on his shoulder. `I know,' he whispered, and awkwardly squeezed. `I know how hard it is to sit and do nothing. If it were you out there- I'd be going mad. Think of how poor Igerna and Stephen must feel.'

`If they really care, they'll use magic and find him,' Sirius retorted stubbornly. He shrugged off his father's hold. `He's my best friend, Dad.'

`I'm starting to realise that.' Mr Black dropped his hand. `I'm sorry. I hope you'll come to understand. This is a nightmare for everyone, Sirius. But we're doing the best with what we have to work with. There's still plenty of hope.'


	2. Chapter Two

Light bothered his eyes. He raised his head, blinking away sleep and dust, squinting against the glare from the opened door.

It was Randy. He crouched, and dangled his hands between his knees. `Are you going to behave?' he asked.

His throat was too dry to swallow, and his jaws no longer worked around the gag. He nodded.

`Next time I'll leave you in here. No-one will ever find you there. You understand?'

He tried to move his hands, but they were numb. He nodded again. Randy reached into the closet and hauled him up by his arms, and pain from sudden circulation of his blood rushed through his limbs. He whimpered, but Randy only pulled him off his feet and carried him back to the kitchen. He was set carefully into the chair, and Randy took out the gag.

`Speak when you're spoken to,' the man ordered. He dropped the gag to the table, and took the milk bottle out of the whining frigidaire. `Are you hungry?'

His tongue tasted thick like cotton. It didn't quite work. `No,' he mumbled.

`No sir.'

`No sir.'

Randy poured the milk into a glass, and put the glass in front of him. `You smell like piss.'

It had been humiliating enough. To be mocked for it was even worse. It seemed he was not too weary for shame.

The oven emitted its tortured signal, and Randy ate another carton dinner while Remus sat staring at him. At last, Randy belched, and pushed away the tray. `Drink your milk,' he said. `You won't go dying on me.'

It was the first indication he'd had that he was going to live. Something in him flared. He reached for the glass with his bound hands, and awkwardly tilted it back to meet his lips. Randy laughed at his efforts, and stood to wipe his chin when he spilled. Then Randy pulled him to his feet, and carried him into the wc. He unwound the cord at his ankles and wrists, and pushed him into the tiled shower corner.

`Take off your clothes and hand them out.'

He was numb, not even surprised. He did as he was told. Randy stopped him sometimes, made him keep his socks, his shirt and tie. Everything else went out, and Randy dropped it into the sink.

`Turn on the shower,' Randy said.

It was rash forgetfulness that made him speak. `I'm still dressed,' he said. He flinched back, but not fast enough. Randy's hand caught him across the mouth. He pressed a hand over the hurt, and his fingers came away bloody.

`Turn on the shower,' the man repeated. This time Remus did. The water was brown at first, spitting out in clumps and drips, before it stuttered and ran clear. It was freezing cold. He shivered under the spray as it soaked through his shirt and socks. There was no soap. Randy told him to turn off the nozzle, and go back to the kitchen. He left a trail of water on the linoleum and stood dripping beside the table, blinking his hair from his eyes.

Randy resumed his seat, and opened the newspaper. He shook it at Remus. `They're not even looking for you,' he said. `You hear me? No-one cares you're gone.'

Despite himself his eyes picked out the headlines. There was no mention of a missing boy. Randy wasn't lying. The date in the corner was Tuesday.

He'd arrived at King's cross on Friday.

Randy did the puzzle games, and sometimes asked him for a word. Dazed, cold and damp, he answered when he knew.

No-one was coming for him.

+++

Mr Black kept his hand on Sirius's shoulder as they entered the Yard. It was a muggy day, overcast and threatening rain. Sirius tugged at the lapels of his jacket nervously. Beside him, James offered a smile.

They waited only moments before a tall man in a blue suit came to them. `Mr Black,' he greeted them. `Boys. I'm Inspector Weis. I'm glad you could come.' He glanced over his shoulder, and indicated a man standing at the front desk. `My associate is Mr McKinney, one of Minister Crouch's men. This interview is a little unusual for us. We'll be using a private room so we can ask certain questions freely.'

`Are you a Muggle?' James asked. Sirius nudged him, frowning.

But Weis smiled down at him. `No. I'm a wizard myself, but I work at the Yard to facilitate these sorts of investigations. If you gentlemen will follow me? Could I offer you any refreshments?'

`Tea, if you have it,' Mr Black replied, ushering the boys along. `We're pleased you could make time for us, Inspector. Have there been any leads?'

They left behind the lobby for a busy room filled with cubicles, and lined with holding cells. They were mostly empty, but Sirius and James stared openly. And then Weis opened a door to a small, windowless meeting room, flicking on the lights and gesturing to chairs. `Our witness was able to give us enough of a description for an artist's sketch,' he explained softly, taking a seat of his own. `It's not precise- he said he didn't get a good look. But I'd like you boys to look at it, see if you recognise the man.' He motioned to Crouch's man, who removed his hat and sat at the table beside Mr Black. He laid a folder on the tabletop, and set out a large drawing.

Sirius glanced at his father, then stood to lean over the picture. He concentrated hard, straining to remember.

James fell back to his chair with a sigh. `I didn't see anyone like that.'

`Sirius?' Weis asked softly.

He tried. He tried desperately.

`I don't remember,' he whispered, ashamed.

McKinney grunted, and took back the picture. Weis smiled at Sirius. `That's all right. It was a long shot. Peter Pettigrew is coming in later today, with his mother. They might remember something.'

James looked up. `Peter told me that Muggle police stop looking after a week.'

Mr Black frowned. `James,' he reproved.

Weis was shaking his head. `It's all right. No, James. We don't stop looking. What your friend was probably thinking of is a statistic that's fairly common.' He hesitated. `The odds get longer if we don't find the victim within the first week. We never stop looking. It just gets harder.'

`It's already been a week,' Sirius noted.

Crouch's man spoke at last. `I would like you to take me through everything as you remember it,' he said, and flipped open a small notepad.

James glanced at Mr Black. `We've already done this,' he said.

Weis smiled. `I know it seems trying. But sometimes people remember things after a while that they didn't immediately.'

`We got off the train and met Mrs Potter,' Sirius said. `Then Mrs Pettigrew. We all waited together for our trunks, and we got trolleys, and then we split up.'

`Were you still on Platform 9 3/4?' McKinney asked, pencil poised.

James nodded. `Remus had to pee- to use the loo. We didn't think anything of leaving him. He always gets a taxi home.'

`Did you watch him to see what toilet he went in?'

The boys looked at each other. `No,' Sirius said at last. `But didn't the witness tell you?'

`Just double-checking.' McKinney sighed, his pinched young face relaxing as he looked at them. `Did you see anyone suspicious? Anyone at all?' He tapped the folder. `Not just someone resembling that picture. Anyone.'

James rubbed his cheek. `I wasn't really looking,' he admitted. `I wish I had been.' Sirius seconded him.

Weis leant over the table, catching back their attention. `Your dad told me you had some questions about why we weren't using magic,' he said. `I want you to know that we are. It's limited, but we have some Aurors devoted to regular scrying. Part of the problem is that we don't know for sure if he's even still in London. We know they left in a car. We don't know what kind or what registration. All of those things would be enormously helpful. You see, Aurors aren't very different from us Muggle police. We both need clues. This case doesn't have very many.'

`Is he dead,' Sirius asked abruptly.

The two inspectors exchanged a look. `No,' McKinney replied, at last. `I don't believe he is. Right now, we're treating this just as a kidnapping.'

`Nothing else?' Mr Black demanded suddenly. He seemed to be asking a different question with his expression, but Sirius didn't know what.

Weis raised his shoulders in a small shrug. `With young boys? We always hope not,' he replied.

+++

Eight-seven. Eighty-eight. Eighty-nine. Ninety.

The oven dinged.

Remus lowered his head so that he could no longer see the ceiling. Randy took out the dinners, and set the jacket potato in front of him still steaming. He put a spoon in Remus's hand, and shook the cord in his face in warning. `Play nice,' he grunted.

They ate in silence. Remus twitched the fingers of the hand still bound to the arm of his chair, but they were slowly losing feeling. The potato left him hungry. Randy let him eat the skin.

`Are you tired?' the man asked.

He found his voice. `No.'

Randy crossed his arms on the table. `You have to sleep sometime.'

`I'm not tired,' he croaked.

`Are you afraid I'll do something to you asleep that I wouldn't do awake?'

He did not reply. Randy left him in the kitchen. Remus heard the radio playing music, but it was too faint to really listen to. He drifted, his eyes drooping closed, the smell of the potatoes eating at his stomach. A burst of cold air from the vents made the hairs on his bare legs stand up, and he shivered.

He jolted awake when Randy carried him, chair and all, into the bedroom, and set him facing the bed amid the wreckage of old clothes and shoes. `You think about it,' Randy told him, standing back to look down at him. `You stare at that bed all night and think about whether it's worth trying to run away again. If you tell me you're ready to be a good lad, I'll let you lie down.'

He ached everywhere, from the sharp pains in his lower back to the joints of his arms and legs, where the chair had forced him into idle immobility. He ached with the desire to give up. But he didn't. His mouth stayed shut. Randy swore at him, yelling until he cringed away from the sound and the hand gripping his shoulder too tightly, and then it was over and he shook, sapped and drained.

Randy put him back in the closet that night.

+++

The door bell dragged him from the couch and television in the Lupin's den. He crept to the door, and set his ear to the crack, listening to the low-voiced conversation at the door. He recognised the voice of Inspector Weis, and rubbed his eyes to wake himself up.

`We have a match,' the man was saying. `The sketch made by our witness matched sketches made for two other cases. Our kidnapper is a serial.'

`Is that good or bad?' Mrs Lupin demanded. He heard his mother say something soothing.

`It gives us more to go on. MO- method of operation.'

`Do you know who he is?'

`Not yet. We're cross-checking these cases against others, now. We asked the news to run the sketch again. He has to buy food, fuel his car, all the normal things that we do. There's no reason to believe that he won't be recognised.'

`What happened to the other boys?' Mr Lupin interrupted.

Sirius tensed when the question was not immediately answered. The silence seemed unbearable.

Weis said, `We never recovered them. They are not presumed dead. Ma'am, sir, I promise you that this case is my first and only priority. I will find your son.'

Sirius closed the door, and leant back against it. `Please be alive,' he whispered. `Please be okay.' His eyes stung, but he didn't let himself cry. He didn't deserve it.

+++

He gave in and asked for the bed.

He slept for a long time, and woke confused and with a headache. Randy gave him tea, on the promise to be good, and let him sleep more. When he finally woke again, Randy let him come into the kitchen and finish the milk.

`Good on you, lad,' he said. `It doesn't have to be hard all the time. What's another word for stomach?'

`Abdomen,' he replied, and they were quiet.

+++

David McKinney knocked on his window, and Weis straightened from his desk to wave him inside. `Word from the Ministry?' he asked.

McKinney set his hat on the desk corner, and held out a folder. `We have him,' he said grimly.

Weis had the folder open before he'd even heard. He looked up. `Serious?'

`Identified by accident.' McKinney slid into a chair, running a hand through his matted hair. `I had the sketch in my pocket when I stopped by Hogwarts to speak with the Headmaster on unrelated business. It fell out, and he identified the man as Randall Stewart.'

`Hogwarts?' he repeated dumbly. `Our man is a wizard?'

`Nearly. Expelled in `62. I haven't found out why yet.'

The Inspector bit absently at a fingernail, shifting through the papers in the folder. `David,' he said slowly. `The names of the other two boys?'

McKinney opened his notepad and searched it. `Bloom and Crowely.'

`Are those wizarding families?'

McKinney caught on. `Are you thinking our kidnapper is holding a grudge?'

`It's more than we've got now, isn't it? Check the registry, please.' He held out a hand as the man rose. `Was Lupin still wearing his uni, when he was taken?'

`Would have made him an easy target, if your theory is right. Perhaps it was no accident that Stewart was in King's Cross on that particular day. I'll check as well to see the dates of the other kidnappings.' The young man scratched at a stubble of beard growth, expression irked. `Why don't parents teach their children not to trust strange men?'

`Be fair. We teach our children to obey, as well, don't we?'

David shrugged. `I suppose.'

`Do you have children?'

`Not me. You?'

`A four year old.' He smiled, bitterly. `I can't tell you the number of times I've handed her to someone she doesn't know. Why shouldn't she trust strangers?' He gazed down at the file. `Don't blame Lupin. He's learning the hard way.'

+++

`Sex is all about domination.' Randy stretched, spine popping. `You can do anything to someone you don't respect. Have you ever thought about that, eh?'

Remus shook his head.

`No, suppose you're too young still.' He rearranged himself and zippered his jeans closed, and heaved off the couch. He turned the dial on the small television, cutting off the fuzzy picture of the loud pornography. `You even old enough for sexual fantasies?' he demanded. `You have a girlfriend? Queer?'

He shook his head again.

`Stop being so damn quiet. You're so damn quiet.'

`No,' he whispered.

`Go to bed. I don't want to look at you. You're filthy, d'you know that? You're nothing.'

He stood. His knees felt weak. He crossed the den, and opened the bedroom door, and lay down on the bed facing the wall. He curled his legs up to his chest, wrapped his arms tightly around them.

Randy brought tissue for his neck, and roughly swabbed it down with rubbing alcohol. It stung badly, and made it cramp. But it stopped bleeding.

`Did I hurt you too badly?' Randy asked.

`No.'

The man sighed. `It's not about you. Do you realise that yet? It's not to do with you. Not really.'

`Are you going to let me go?'

`Do you want me to do that?'

`Yes.'

Randy rolled him onto his back, looking down at him and frowning. `Get dressed,' he answered suddenly. `Moon's coming soon. Can't have you here, anyway. Think your mum misses you? She won't want you back, you know. They never do.'

Randy didn't touch him anymore, and he was grateful.

+++

The lieutenant dropped his cigarette to the dirt and snubbed it out as Weis approached. `He's inside,' he reported. `According to the owner, he hasn't left in a week or so.'

Weis glanced around the premises, taking in the unlit `Vacancy' sign above the motel name, and the two parked cars settled in shadow. McKinney joined him, followed by an older man carrying a wand. The wand disappeared just as the lieutenant turned, and raised an eyebrow at the newcomers.

`Special liaisons,' Weis explained shortly. `Counselling services.'

`Mm.' Satisfied, the Muggle readied a new clip into his firearm, and nodded toward the door. `Team is ready. We can enter or negotiate on command.'

`We prefer to enter,' McKinney said softly, for his ears alone. `Between the three of us, we can handle anything out of the ordinary that Stewart might try, and clean up whatever mess it makes with the Muggles afterward.'

`Agreed.' He raised his voice. `Top priority is the safety of the boy. If this becomes a hostage situation, no-one is to open fire if he's in the line.'

Three uniformed Muggles approached room 14 of Reading's Overnight Motel with a small battering ram. They looked to Weis. He settled against the wall, held his own firearm at ready, with the lieutenant opposite him and McKinney standing at the ready, tension between all of them.

`Go,' Weis said.

The door fell to the third hit, and the Muggles poured into the kitchen, closely followed by Weis and the Ministry. They scattered, covering the area and pushing into the den. Weis narrowly escaped tripping over a thermos, and divided the men between the two remaining doors. `You are surrounded,' he shouted. `Randall Stewart, come out.'

The door opened. Stewart held a wand. The Muggles stared.

`Drop your weapon and you won't come to harm. Where's the boy?'

Stewart's eyes were wild. He laughed suddenly. `Took you long enough.' He made an obscene gesture. `You can tell Dippet I had mine.'

`Tell Dippet yourself.' Weis felt the Auror at his back, and saw McKinney with a wand at ready near. `Drop your weapon. You'll get a chance to make your say.'

Stewart leaned against the doorway. `Tell Dippet it's on his head. Those boys. I got back what he did to me.'

`Don't shoot to kill,' Weis warned the others. `It's what he wants. We need him alive to solve the other kidnappings.'

Stewart raised the wand. He pointed it. Weis did not wait. He fired. Stewart staggered, the wand dropping from nerveless fingers. He clutched his shoulder. Then he laughed, and took a step forward.

The bullet came from the lieutenant, this time. It dropped him. Weis kicked the wand away, and knelt to check for a pulse. `Medical,' he ordered sharply. `Get them in here.' He stood, and drew a deep breath. `Don't let him die.' He holstered his gun, and pointed to McKinney. `Find the boy.'

One of the Muggle police shouted from the kitchen. `He's secure! In here.' David joined him, and Weis waved him back at the door of the bathroom. Remus Lupin was hunched in the corner of a filthy shower stall, gagged. He wore his school uniform, jacket and all. Bruised about the face, but whole and hopefully, Weis thought, untouched.

The Muggle trying to coax him out looked up at Weis. `There's blood on his collar. I want the doctor to see him.'

`Call his parents. Let them know we have him safe.' He gazed down at the boy. Wide pale eyes stared back. So, he thought. Here's the face we've been after this past week. He looked a very young thirteen.

He dredged up a smile. `You're safe, son.' He knelt on the wet tile, and took out a pocket knife to saw at the bindings around the hands. They fell away, and he turned a chilled hand to the light, examining the lacerations. `Someone find him a blanket- he's soaked through,' he said, and heard McKinney leave from the doorway. He gently removed the gag, and smoothed back the boy's lank hair. `It's going to be all right, Remus. Your parents will be on their way.'

`He told me no-one was coming,' Remus said hoarsely. His eyes skittered away from Weis. Going into shock. The hand that Weis held trembled.

He said gently, `He lied to you. We've been looking for you all this time. We've got you, now.' He helped the boy to his feet, took off his jacket to wrap it around him. `Let's get you warm, all right?'

`Is he dead?'

`Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter anymore.'


	3. Chapter Three

McKinney was waiting in his office when he entered Monday morning. Surprised, Weis made a half-hearted greeting, as he finished cinching his holster across his chest. `Why do I have the feeling you're here with bad news?'

`I wish I could claim otherwise.' David shrugged, and held out a familiar file folder. `I finished reviewing Lupin's statement. He claims he wasn't touched. I'd like to talk to him about that. In fact, it's imperative.'

`We both know he's lying.' He sat, propping his feet on his desk. `But let him have his privacy. It's not as if Stewart will ever contradict him.'

`No?' David raised his eyebrows.

`No. Randall Stewart left us at nineteen hundred hours yesterday.'

The young man frowned. `I hope he also left us a statement about the other two boys.'

`We weren't so lucky.'

`Damn.' McKinney slumped back in his chair. `Damn that man.'

Weis didn't disagree. `What was your news?'

He looked up. `I contacted old Dippet. Asked why Stewart was expelled. You remember how the Headmaster was, conservative to the core. I doubt he changed his underwear any more often than his opinions.' He tossed his little notepad to Weis's desk. `And his opinions on Dark Creatures were plenty typical. He discovered Stewart was a werewolf, and pulled him.'

Weis dropped his feet to the tile and sat forward. `Werewolf?'

David nodded. `Now look at this.' He opened the file, and laid out three pictures. Remus Lupin, from his medical review. `See that? That looks an awful lot like teeth marks to me.' He indicated a small spot half-hidden by the turn of Lupin's head. `I think Stewart knew exactly what he was doing to the boy. He might even have regretted it. It was cleaned, unlike the other injuries. But that doesn't mean he didn't pass it on.'

Weis stared down at the glossies. `Are there tests? Is there any way to do this without a fuss?'

McKinney shook his head in denial. `I checked that, too. The only test is the full moon.' He pulled another sheet, and set it in front of Weis. A lunar chart. `Which is in four days.'

He rubbed a hand over his mouth, at the sudden sour taste on his tongue. At last, he said, `You're sure?'

David nodded. `I'll accompany you to the parents.'

`I'm sure they'll adore having the Ministry involved.' He sighed. `He's thirteen.'

`Stewart was thirteen, once. Let's hope Lupin fares better.' He closed the file. `In fact, I know he will. I'm sticking with him. He'll need a Ministry guardian, and I've already filed the paperwork. One Randall Stewart is enough for me to stomach.'

`Don't treat him like a sociopath. Go gently with him, all right?'

The wizard looked at him curiously. `Taken a shine to the boy?'

`Someday you'll have children, my friend, and you'll see the world a little differently.'

`I promise to speak him fair. I'm not a monster, Michael.' McKinney stood. `Shall we leave now? The parents should know as soon as possible.'

+++

`Remus?'

He turned his head. Sirius stood in the doorway, letting a blast of cool air escape the front hallway. The other boy held up a bag of salt taffies. He managed a smile, and Sirius joined him on the stoop, letting the door swing closed behind him.

`Your mum said it was okay if we ate as much as we wanted. Supper won't be anything special.'

He took a blue taffy, and unwound the parchment wrapper slowly. `All right,' he replied at length.

`James will come over tomorrow. He's bringing a book on dragons that he got. You'll like it. Wicked pictures.'

He chewed the taffy slowly, and linked his arms around his legs. He turned his face into the sunlight, and closed his eyes.

`Reemy? Are you going to be okay?'

He nodded without looking. He'd lost track of how many times people had asked him that question.

`Remus. I'm sorry I left you there.'

Now he looked. Sirius sat with tears in his eyes, his cheeks suffused with red, and his fists clenched in a storm of badly hidden emotion. Remus stared. He touched Sirius's arm. `I'm all right. I swear. It wasn't your fault.'

`I shouldn't have left you alone!'

He linked their fingers, and Sirius squeezed his hand tightly. `I barely remember it,' he said truthfully. `It's like... like a bad dream. Not real.'

Sirius wiped his face with his free hand. `Was it horrible?'

He shrugged, uncertain. `The being afraid was the worst. The rest of it...'

`I hate him,' Sirius flatly declared. `I'm glad he died.'

He did not reply. He didn't know what to say. He took another taffy. Pink. He smiled for Sirius, and put it in his hand.

Sirius managed a smile in reply. `I hate the pink ones,' he said, and they laughed.

A police car left the stream of traffic and slowed to a stop before their building. The doors opened, and tall Inspector Weis and his partner McKinney emerged from within. Sirius glanced at Remus, but Remus only watched as the men climbed the steps to them.

`Hello, boys,' Weis said. `Remus, I'm glad to see you out and about.'

When Remus said nothing, Sirius politely thanked the man. `Are you here to see Mr and Mrs Lupin?' he added.

McKinney tugged at his tie. `We are. Though I'd like to talk to you, too, Remus, before I leave.' He had pale blue eyes, and they seemed to be looking for something on Remus. He indicated the door. `Mind if we go in?'

They separated to allow the men through. Weis waved, and shut the door behind them.

Sirius looked at Remus. `Don't you like Inspector Weis? I do.'

He shrugged, unable to explain. `I just want it to be over,' he said at last.

Sirius's gaze was brown and uncertain. `Do you think you might want to sleep in the bed tonight?' he asked softly.

He looked away. `I don't want to sleep on the bed.'

`Okay. That's okay.' Sirius touched his knee. Sirius was always touching him. He didn't know which of them it was supposed to reassure.

They went inside to put away the uneaten taffy and to collect a board game. Remus tickled his infant brother, until voices from the sitting room drew him away from the kitchen and to the sitting room. Sirius followed, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. `Don't eavesdrop,' he said.

Remus ignored him, and put an ear to the door.

`There are places to turn to for help,' Weis was saying softly. Remus frowned, and nudged the crack of the door open a little further. Sirius watched him nervously. `St Mungo's is specially designed to help- certain unfortunates. There's no shame in going to them. It's not many families that can stand the strain on their own.'

His mother began to cry.

`I'm not recommending it,' Weis added awkwardly. `But I'm trying to present your options. Remus absolutely cannot stay in the city over the full moon. Mungo's has the facilities to protect Remus from himself and to protect others from him.'

`I won't lock him away like a criminal,' Mr Lupin said flatly. Remus felt a rush of gratitude.

`Mungo's isn't a regular institution, sir. He can have a tutor. Rooms to himself. You'll be able to visit as often as you want, and he'll be allowed to cultivate some skills that are productive.'

`It's not fair. He didn't do anything to deserve this.'

McKinney spoke. `It rarely is fair, Mr Lupin. But please understand. Innocent as he is, he will still turn into something dangerous on the full moon. And his youth is a factor. He's very young, not fully developed yet. Over time this could affect his human personality. He will need support.'

`He's got us.'

`Stephen,' his mother hiccoughed. `How can we...'

They never want you back, you know.

`The Werewolf Registry will be here soon. You need to decide.' McKinney's voice moved, approaching the door. Remus and Sirius skittered back. `I asked them to give you some time to adjust to the idea, but time is in short supply. You should know- the moon is only four days away. You should start looking for a place to take him, where he won't be exposed to many people. Excuse me for a moment.'

Sirius took him by the shoulders. `What are they saying?' he whispered.

He stared at his friend. `I don't know.'

The door opened, and Sirius dropped his hold. McKinney stood looking down at them. Then, quickly, he shut the door, and drew them into the kitchen. `How much did you hear?' he asked quietly.

`Enough.' Sirius was pale. His eyes lingered on Remus.

`Sirius, can I ask you to please leave us alone?'

Mutely, Sirius left.

`I'm not a werewolf,' Remus said.

McKinney glanced back to the sitting room, then crouched, dangling his hands between his knees. He loosened his tie, and sighed. `I'm very much afraid that you are, Remus,' he replied.

`No. It's impossible.'

`Randall Stewart was a werewolf. That's why he was expelled by Headmaster Dippet.'

He affected the same cool expression as the one that gazed back at him. `What does that have to do with me?'

McKinney considered at him, and suddenly his eyes weren't so remote; they were sad. He stood, and took hold of Remus's shoulder with awkward compassion, gently tugging his collar away and touching the spot behind his ear that was still tender, after nearly a week. `He bit you, Remus,' he said. `Our medic reported the mark. It's not absolute that his disease was transferred to you. But it's highly likely.'

`He never touched me,' Remus retorted, and pulled away.

`Listen to me. Denial may be easy, but it won't solve anything or make it disappear. You don't have much time for that sort of foolishness, now. We both know what he did to you. Now I'm telling you what that means for the rest of your life.'

The full moon was four days away.

He wrapped his arms around his chest, and found he was shaking. `I don't want to go to St Mungo's,' he managed.

McKinney looked down at him gravely. `Are you sure? You may find more understanding there than you will back at your school. There is no easy life for a werewolf. Other children will be frightened of you. Or if you choose to try and hide it, there will always be a secret between you and your friends.'

All he could do was shake his head.

McKinney hesitated, and finally made a noise of agreement. `I don't suppose I blame you. Very well. No Mungo's.'

He had to swallow before he could speak. `Will I be expelled from Hogwarts like- like Randy was?'

`Dumbledore is notably softer than Dippet was. And given the nature of Randall Stewart- it seems likely to me that they'll think twice about expelling someone for circumstances beyond their control.'

He fought the swell of panic, shoved it down. But it was strong. `Why did he pick me?'

McKinney shook his head. `I don't know. You were just in the wrong place, Remus.' He squeezed Remus's shoulder. `All we can hope for is that it's never more than we can handle. And you're a very capable young man. I don't know many who emerge from nine days of captivity as calm as you did.'

`I don't feel calm.' He felt choked. `I feel- I feel-`

Arms went about him. He jumped, blinded by tears, and fought. Sirius whispered, `I'm not him. It's all right. Let me help you.'

McKinney withdrew tactfully. Sirius drew him down to the floor, holding him tightly, as if he would break into a million pieces if he let go. He thought he might. It came bursting out of him, the crying he hadn't cried since the first night in the closet, rupturing things inside him. Sirius held him while he sobbed, and held his head and stroked with his fingers the marks of teeth behind his ear, in the soft flesh of his neck.

`We'll do it together. If they take you to Mungo's I'll go with you. I'll die before I let them hurt you again. Do you hear me? I'll never leave you alone. I promise.'

He huddled on the cold kitchen floor with his best friend, and he heard.


End file.
